Remember back in 2010 when the most coveted seat in town was the chair across from Marina Abramović at MoMA? People waited for hours to sit and stare back at the performance artist and, because there was no time limit for each individual, you had no way of knowing how long it would take until you got your turn, or whether you'd even get a chance at all. The piece was called "The Artist Is Present," and featured Abramović sitting silently for a total of 736 hours and 30 minutes.

For NYC-based artist Lisa Levy, all of the crazy hype surrounding Abramović's performance became symbolic for everything that was wrong with the contemporary art world, both the "ego and pretense" of those involved, as well as the "home decorating kind of work" that she says dominates galleries, museums, and auctions. So this weekend—six years after Abramović left her chair at MoMA—Levy parodied performance at the Christopher Stout Gallery in Bushwick—she called her piece "The Artist Is Humbly Present." Levy invited whoever stopped by the space to sit across from her, and like Abramović she remained silent throughout. Unlike Abramović, Levy was completely naked the entire time, and the two seats—one for her, one for you—were toilets.

A steady stream of willing participants sat with Levy on both days, though Christopher Stout said that the wait never got too long. When I arrived at around 2:30 yesterday only about four people were ahead of me, and within a half an hour or so I got a chance to sit. It was all pretty casual and low-key, with lots of picture-taking and quiet chatting among the viewers, and Stout occasionally fiddled with the portable heater right by Levy's side. The room didn't have the same intensity that Abramović created, but while I was actually sitting across from Levy there was a definite power to her humility and vulnerability.

As you can see from the photos, the range of people who sat during the hour I was there was pretty broad, and three men stripped naked for the experience. One of these men had drawn a lengthy message onto his chest, written backwards as if done before a mirror, with a cross of sorts in the middle composed of four spurting penises. The viewer's toilet was always presented lid closed, and everyone but this guy kept it that way.

The artist Ventiko also turned up, and brought her peacock Dexter with her, though the bird wasn't terribly cooperative with the lap-sitting part of the process.